


An Offering of Souls

by threewalls



Category: Vagrant Story
Genre: Devotion, M/M, Partnership, Pre-Canon, Rituals, Summer Solstice, Traditions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29807013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threewalls/pseuds/threewalls
Summary: They both expect this to be their last Summer solstice.(Sydney had not stopped to consider just how much Hardin expects to sacrifice for Sydney's plans.)
Relationships: Sydney Losstarot/John Hardin
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3
Collections: Final Fantasy Kiss Battle 2021





	An Offering of Souls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pantswarrior](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pantswarrior/gifts).



> For pantswarrior's prompt: Sydney/Hardin, _partners...?_.

"Last light," Hardin finally calls. Beside him, Sydney nods to Daniel and Matthias, who thrust their torches into the wood piled high in the courtyard's centre.

In Müllenkamp's time, to be the one who proclaimed the sun's fall beneath the horizon at the very height of summer was a rare honour. Leá Monde's sons competed to be the one who climbed to the city's highest vantage point, the highest tower of the Great Temple of Kiltia, or so Sydney was told as a child. He only remembers staring at the temple ceiling, impatient and overly tired, waiting for one of his father's friends to announce the sunset seen only with the eyes of his soul.

Sydney took up the responsibility when he revived the practice for his Müllenkamp, the lone scryer in their number. They need not fear the priests now, but nor can they trust a body to the Cathedral's crumbling architecture, or their reduced numbers to what remains of the Temple beneath it. At least in the keep's courtyard they can see the sky, and it is a large enough space for the revelry that comes as they celebrate the lengthening nights.

Under the cover of darkness and merriment, Sydney steps close behind Hardin, a careful grip on his shoulders lest Hardin's body should lose its balance as his soul returns.

"Are you well?" Sydney asks.

"Well enough," Hardin says, one hand kneading the back of his own neck. "I am stubborn but not fool-hardy."

The Cardinal's activities this Yuletide past cost them a score of souls they will not see again, but you would not guess it were so from the tide of shouts that have taken up Hardin's call of "last light" around the growing fire. Sydney told them to not spare the wood this year, or the wine. At this year's end, the revelry is much needed.

"You are the strongest among us, but you do not need to take it all on yourself. You have a partner," Hardin says, laying his hand upon Sydney's metal one. "Though you may need another if you wish to join the dancing. You could not last year, and I wanted..."

Neither man moves to join the dancers wreathing the fire.

...Partners, Sydney thinks, like a question he has never thought to ask. He and Hardin do not put names to what they are. Or so he thought.

"The Duke is ailing. He will not keep the legacy from you much longer." Hardin's weight is warm against Sydney's chest. Without the support, he would be swaying on his feet. "This may have been my last chance."

_When you have need of me_ , Hardin's heart whispers, _your Phantom Soul will be true and fast_.

Sydney's heart stops.

It is true that a would-be successor must cede his Phantom Soul to the Dark. It is true that the Duke's succession from his own father cost him his first wife. But the legacy remains no longer with the Duke. Sydney thought the lie fitting, once upon a time, that Hardin should not assume he could ingratiate himself and so become Sydney's successor.

They have not always been friends, or lovers, or... partners. Their history is built layers of lies on half-truths, too many to excavate in the short time they have left together. Not if that lie is the rock beneath Hardin's loyalty.

Not if it may not yet be a lie. There is little indeed that Sydney will not sacrifice for his father's plans.

He has not told Hardin that his gift can no longer see ahead to another winter. That he cannot see ahead to the next turning of the leaves. Instead of a thousand possibilities, Sydney now dreams of only one death, in fire and blood. And alone.

Sydney presses his lips to the arch of Hardin's neck. "The dancing I have in mind is best in private."

Hardin's teeth are bright as he laughs. "I am well enough for that."


End file.
